Since You've Been Gone
by punkroronoa
Summary: Stiles hasn't counted the days since Derek left. Not at all.


It's been 160 days, or 5 months and 7 days since Derek left (Not like Stiles has been counting because he totally hasn't, not at all.), and Beacon Hills feels a little emptier, and that may or may not unsettle him a little (It does, but he won't admit that at all, absolutely not, because he's the pack's Batman and he's supposed to be strong.).

He can feel a cool breeze coming in from his open window, he shivers a little, but he flips to the next page of his textbook before actually getting up to grab his crimson hoodie. He slips it on and wanders back to the bed, and he goes back to pretending that his Psychology homework interests him, when really, it makes him burn in boredom. Some days it intrigued him more than others, and tonight didn't feel like one of those nights.

It feels different, even though tonight doesn't differ from any other night, because most of the days since Derek's departure have been strangely ordinary. Something just feels off, but he can't describe the feeling in any other way other than, "I just have this bad feeling in my gut, like something bad will end up rolling into town on four wheels and rip our throats out." and his description seems bizarrely descriptive, even to him. Stiles doesn't have any link to the other side (Besides the darkness that he feels in his heart and vibrates in his bones every morning, but he doesn't count that because it doesn't count, at least not in this case.) because he wouldn't consider himself Psychic, because he really doesn't _feel _Psychic, if you could even feel such a thing.

He just has this feeling like something really will happen, like something, or someone, will roll into town and cause trouble, because obviously, the last 5 months have been abnormally average and routine, so something bad must happen at some point. When it does, when the new "Big Bad" (Buffy references seem obligatory, since they fit the situation.) arrives into town, Stiles has a plan, or at least he thinks he does. Depending on the new enemy, his plan may or may not work, but he doesn't particularly want to think of the latter.

He also has a paper on A Tale of Two Cities to write for his English class as well as his Psych 3-page front and back worksheet, since the new teacher that replaced Ms. Blake didn't fall for the whole, "Our Town Has Been A Murder Scene Lately So Go Easy On Us Act," and piled as much homework as possible on the students almost as punishment, or at least the homework felt like a punishment. He doesn't plan on doing said homework anytime soon, and as soon as he finally gives up, shuts his book and goes to turn on his laptop to waste the next four hours looking at cat pictures, the doorbell chimes.

He almost groans, because of the time, and really, who would knock on his door so late at night? His dad has three more hours before his shift ends, so he wouldn't ring the doorbell in the case that he forgot his own keys. Scott, well, he really has no clue where Scott ran off to (But Scott wouldn't ring the doorbell, he would walk right in because Scott evidently has a key.), and Isaac doesn't really converse with Stiles much, so he doubts that he would waste his time with Stiles.

He slowly gets up, because whoever planned on wasting his time could waste a little time his or herself, and he starts to make his way down the stairs. He wonders who really needs him this late at night, and he almost hates them before he even opens the door. No one should interrupt his homework procrastination time, no matter who needs him, or the importance of his or her emergency. He kind of made it a rule. He has a list. It hangs on the back of his door, but he never really closes his door, so no one could see his fantastic list anyway.

When he finally pulls open the door and before he can even start on a long rant about why anyone would need him so late at night, he kind of forgets to breathe. As in, he literally holds his breath without actually noticing, and his jaw drops, and any plans to start on a long tirade about the rudeness of bothering him late at night actually dissolve.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come."

Once Stiles regains his ability to function, he shakes his head quickly, anger suddenly flowing through his veins. He burns, as in, his body temperature heightens, or at least he feels like it. "No, no you shouldn't have." He knows his heartbeat stutters, because he feels it, and also because he knows exactly how one's body should react when one tells a lie. "You just plan on coming back now? After so long? After we waited for you? You didn't even call, Derek. You didn't even leave a note."

Derek looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it, and keeps his mouth shut because Stiles wouldn't want him to speak anyway. Stiles wouldn't want to hear some lame excuse about why he left, about how he left to keep everyone safe. (He knows he didn't leave for that reason, because he knows for a fact that everyone can keep themselves safe, and if not, Scott's always a phone call away. He knows his ran because he has a tendency to run from his problems, he always has.)

"You're just going to show up on my doorstep like nothing happened?" He feels hurt, because being abandoned by someone you care about always stings, and then bruises more when the one who abandons you comes back. Whether Derek realizes it or not, coming back just reopens former wounds and it makes them ache and throb like Derek so much as talking inflicts more pain and digs deeper into old scars. "Come on, Derek, I thought you knew better than that."

"I would apologize, but I feel you wouldn't accept my apology, so I won't even try. I did something wrong, I'm aware of that, but I just," He didn't expect Stiles to act this way. He predicted that Stiles would welcome him back with somewhat open arms, with his usual tone laced with sarcasm, not anger. He didn't think Stiles cared all that much, and as sickening as it sounds, Stiles anger makes Derek a little happy. It lets him know that he still has someone who cares besides Cora.

"You just what? You want to say "Oh Stiles, I missed you so much. I thought about you every waking hour of every day, and every second without you hurt."? No, Derek, it doesn't work that way, even though you want it to." He pulls back, flailing his arms a little, and he runs his fingers through his hair, "Seriously, Derek?"

"I need somewhere to stay."

"Well, go sleep on the floor of an abandoned building again because I'm not letting you stay here." He doesn't tell him to ask Scott, because Scott wouldn't say yes either, and he wants to punish Derek just a little for leaving all of them.

"I'm sorry." He turns to go, but he can't bring himself to actually step off the porch. He wants to turn back, and throw himself at Stiles no matter how ridiculously cheesy it sounds because in all honesty, he missed Stiles and it hurt. He wants to say something, he really does, but he feels like nothing he'd say would make a difference. Nothing would make Stiles forgive him.

"Derek," Stiles' anger seems to melt off him as he steps forward and sets a hand on his shoulder, "We don't have a guest room, but I have extra blankets and pillows. It might not compare to that of your abandoned train station, or your loft, but it's something." He tries to joke, but it comes out differently, and he can't even describe how. He didn't plan to sound so desperate for Derek to stay, but he did, and he knew Derek could pick up on it, but if Derek noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Thanks." His lips twitch a little, and he makes his way back to his car to grab his bag, and by the time he gets back to the door, Stiles stares down at him from the top of the stairs.

"You coming?"

Derek shuts the door.


End file.
